Beyond The Frontier

By Vidya Subramaniam

The short story is considered to be a beautiful form of literature. It can, like a flash of lightning, scan deep inside the human heart within a fraction of a second. It hides in itself deep and intimate feelings like the powerful under - current hidden in a river. It gives me immense pleasure to present these stories which are the written form of various significant experiences and moments of insight in my life. Most of the stories in this collection have received prizes and honours.

I would like to record my thanks to the translator, Mrs. Rama Srinivasan, with whom I established an instant rapport at our first meeting. It was a meeting of two minds and I am happy that she has recreated my stories in English, once more with feeling. I am most grateful to Mr. V. Irai Anbu, I.A.S, who in spite of his busy schedule willingly consented to and found the time to write the foreword to this book. Last but definitely not the least, my sincere thanks are due to the Sivasakthi National Book Publication who showed interest in an English translation of my works and brought out this first venture of ours.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pustaka Digital Media
• Release date: Aug 28, 2021
• ISBN: 6580505706785

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Beyond The Frontier

Author:

Vidya Subramaniam

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Author's Note

The short story is considered to be a beautiful form of literature. It can, like a flash of lightning, scan deep inside the human heart within a fraction of a second. It hides in itself deep and intimate feelings like the powerful under - current hidden in a river. It gives me immense pleasure to present these stories which are the written form of various significant experiences and moments of insight in my life. Most of the stories in this collection have received prizes and honours.

I would like to record my thanks to the translator, Mrs. Rama Srinivasan, with whom I established an instant rapport at our first meeting. It was a meeting of two minds and I am happy that she has recreated my stories in English, once more with feeling. I am most grateful to Mr. V. Irai Anbu, I.A.S, who in spite of his busy schedule willingly consented to and found the time to write the foreword to this book. Last but definitely not the least, my sincere thanks are due to the Sivasakthi National Book Publication who showed interest in an English translation of my works and brought out this first venture of ours.

Vidya Subramaniam

A NOTE FROM THE TRANSLATOR

Rama Srinivasan

Iwas first drawn to Vidya Subramaniam's writings by her short stories, which have appeared in leading Tamil magazines and periodicals, over the last fifteen years. Today she is an established writer in Tamil, with a few collections of short stories and several novels to her credit. Apart from the many prizes her entries have won in competitions, in recent times she won the Ananthachari Foundation Award in 1996 for her novel Thennangkatru, Tamil Nadu State Government Award in 1998 for her collection of short stories Vanathil oru Maan, and the State Bank of India Award in 1998 for her novel Aagaayam Arugil Varum.

The stories I have chosen for this collection bring out, loud and clear, her concern for social issues. She presents the changing trends, desirable and undesirable, in modern Indian life, against our traditional background. Yet the conflict is not between tradition and modernity, but of values gone askew. In this category come stories like Companion, Appa, and A Private Function. There is an underlying note of bitter protest, when she describes the oppression and persecution of the weak and the poor for whom she has infinite compassion and understanding. This is found in stories like National Flag at Half – mast, Hunger and The Jail. She deals with the problem of infatuation that afflicts the youth and the teenagers, with great sensitivity, as in Teenage Trauma, and The Pond. Death is also a recurring theme in her stories, and to this she brings a philosophic touch and a message that can be understood by all. The voice of humanity is there for all to hear in Beyond the Frontier.

Many of her stories are concerned with what in modern parlance is called Women’s Issues. In her presentation frailty is just one of the names of Woman. She is also Patience, Compassion, Wisdom, Strength, and Love. She could also be the battling rebel, the hapless victim, the insensitive individual. She could be a Kali, a Parvati, a Sita or a Saraswati; she is human, she is divine. Vidya's is a sensitive portrayal of woman in all her diversity.

The issues she raises are a challenge to right thinking people, to resolve the conflicts. The stories in this collection bear testimony to the fact that we cannot just skim through them, and then put them away and out of our mind.

We must pause to ask and answer the questions, consider and resolve the issues.

A Prelude... to include...

V. Irai Anbu I.A.S.

Any activity becomes creative if the creator is able to fully realise his experience in terms of his creation. It may be poetry, sculpture, painting or dance. The form is not so important; the creator is more important. The content, the purpose and the way in which it has been conceived and delivered makes the creation beautiful.

Literature is a meeting point of logic and imagination. Thousands of stories are being written by authors regularly. But rarely do you come across a story where your thoughts and feelings are reflected in full. The appreciation arises not out of the literary content of a story, or its flowery flowing style or due to its fascinating, unimaginable dimensions but due to the very fact that you find something in it which you have also experienced, you also wanted to share, you also wanted to reveal. Experience cannot be uniform as it is unique to every individual. Depending upon the depth of experience and the commitment that one has towards life, the expressions tend to vary.

The short stories of Vidya Subramaniam in this collection are quite astounding as they often emanate from a very basic, downtrodden section of the people. Each story under this category has got empathy for the miserable people who find no way for their liberation from the clutches of poverty and penury, suffering and exploitation. I refer to stories like Hunger, The Jail and The Block. Out of deep compassion for the poor, and with a lot of commitment, the author has tried to ferret out the secrets of their life in a manner which would be very difficult for many of the contemporary writers to visualize. Unless you are fully involved in the creativity which you profess, it may not be possible to materialize the feelings into beautiful language. There might be attempts to clothe them in words that are superficial, cosmetic decorations, but the result is poor and unsatisfactory, because the commitment is missing and the experience is vicarious in nature. But the writings of Vidya Subramaniam are akin to reality, for the simple reason that they originate from the core of her heart that is fully encompassed with love for others.

I must refer to a short story in this collection – Beyond the Frontier. Frontiers are not decided by natural features on the face of the earth. Nature is so magnanimous and bountiful that is does not bar the flight of the bird from a far-off country, crossing political boundaries. Man has evolved from bird but devolved from humanity. Frontiers are artificial lines drawn on the surface of the earth, in a manner that reflects narrowness of attitude. The world today is full of conflicts and confrontations across the borders. Sixty per cent of the budget of some countries is spent on defence. It is surprising to know that all the time they have to be prepared for war, in order to maintain peace. Such is the paradox with which one has to put up in order to survive in this tension - ridden animosity - oriented world. For no valid reason bombs are exploded, aircrafts are shot down, and all these acts are justified in the name of political boundaries. Beyond the Frontier is a beautiful story which indicates that humanity could transcend all the barriers, for there is still some sympathy, some kindness left in the hearts of human beings. Before it dries up, we must preserve it, replenish it, so that in future we may see at least some buds bloom in a wilderness of thorns and weeds.

Death is a theme in some stories, presented as a personal or social tragedy. But beyond the presentation is the author's philosophical approach, which transforms the ephemeral into the immortal. Such is the story Separation

Death is beautiful, if one can accept it without fear or regret. Only a person who has lived his life meaningfully can fully have a glimpse of the magnificence of Death, which can then be a fulfilment.

In her stories Vidya Subramaniam has covered a variety of social and familial issues that call for a tremendous capacity for understanding. The delineation of her women characters deserves special mention.

All these stories have been written with a purpose, and they have been beautifully translated without causing any distortion in translation. In fact, I would call it a work of transcreation. I am sure that all the readers will find this work interesting, entertaining and thought provoking. I wish the author all the best in her future endeavours so that she can turn a golden leaf in the history of literature.

V. Irai Anbu I.A.S.

Director

Tourism and Development of Tamil Nadu

Chennai.

Present Chief Secretary

Contents

BEYOND THE FRONTIER

THANJAVUR, KAVERI AND SANKARAN

THEY

AHALYA

SEPARATION

CHECK-MATE

AMMA

APPA

LIGHT

A PRIVATE FUNCTION

THE CONCEPTION

THE BLOCK

A RING IN SECRET

COMPANION

DEATH

NATIONAL FLAG AT HALF-MAST

THE JAIL

HUNGER

Teen-age Trauma

THE POND

GOAL

RAYS OF HOPE

MAKE A NEW WORLD

BEYOND THE FRONTIER

We were on the bank of the crystalline waters of the river Chenab. Maninder Singh was arranging the twigs and sticks that he had gathered, on the rock which was covered by a layer of frozen moisture. He was going to light a fire that could give us some warmth that we could do with. He called me when he had the fire going. I got up from where I had been idly throwing pebbles into the river. I adjusted the gun slung across my shoulder, and went up to him.

What's the matter, Raki? You seem out of sorts? he said, as he warmed his hands over the fire, and then warmed his cheeks with his hands.

I laughed and said, You have changed me from Radhakrishnan to Raki. That's why I am upset.

Oh, my friend! I am not able to pronounce your name. What am I to do? I am not able to speak any language other than Hindi...

That's no excuse! I too could speak only Tamil when I came here. Now you can see how well I speak Hindi.

I do marvel at that. How indeed do you manage to speak so well?

I thumped my chest proudly and said, That is the proficiency of the Tamilian. When people whose mother-tongue is Malayalam or Telugu or Kannada speak Tamil or any other language, there is a marked influence of the mother-tongue in their pronunciation of the other language. But in the case of the Tamilian, his pliable tongue and felicity of enunciation enable him to pronounce any language with ease. This is because the Tamil language and its vocabulary have given his tongue the necessary training. That is the distinction of the Tamil language.

I went on to explain to him about the tripartite system of the sounds of Tamil. I became conscious of my mounting enthusiasm and conviction when I spoke about Tamil. Maninder had the same partiality for Hindi. To each, his own mother - tongue is the best.

It was five years since I joined the army, and six months since I was posted to the frontier on security duty. Border security is a very difficult assignment. One has to serve far, far away from any human habitation, and learn to face the turbulence and vagaries of nature. It involves constant patrolling along the barbed wire fence, keeping constant vigil that there is no infiltration from across the border. The unchanging landscape of snow-covered mountains, trees and mountain-streams can be painful to the mind.

There was a time when I had longed for such natural surroundings. Tired of life in a joint family of fourteen members, with the attendant noise level, petty quarrels, loud laughter and uproarious scenes, I had longed for the forests and mountains and waterfalls, in the heart of nature. I had not sought a career in the armed forces, but when I got the opportunity to join the army, I did so quite happily. After the initial training, I was posted in Delhi for two years. Subsequently, after being shifted to various camps, I had been sent on border security duty six months ago. At this outpost on the banks of the Chenab, Maninder and I were the sole companions for each other. Some distance away, across the border, three soldiers who, like us, were on border security duty for their own country, had also put their guns down and were talking, as they warmed themselves by a fire.

Though we belonged to different countries, engaged as we were on similar duty, I could not think of them as enemies. When they came down to the river to wash their hands after a meal, I would often smile at them and they would smile in return. Sometimes we would even make enquiries about each other, Since we all realised that border security was a very difficult assignment, and because we were on our own in a desolate place, we could not regard the other group as enemies. Each realising that the other had come on a similar difficult task, the looks we exchanged could not but be full of sympathy and understanding. This understanding is perhaps the foundation of peace and friendship.

Tell me, Maninder, is crossing the border a great crime?

Of course, it is, Raki. As a soldier, how can you ask such a question?

Why do we have these frontiers, Maninder?

Are you suggesting that there should be no borders?

I am not saying that, but why should crossing them be a crime...?

Shit! It is because some people crossed over like this that India remained enslaved for a long time.

The cause was not the crossing of our borders by those people. It was our generosity and trusting nature, and their cleverness and cunning.

Have it your way. But in today's circumstances, do you realise what will happen if the tight restrictions in the border are relaxed?

I know that. Inimical powers will move freely, war will break out between countries, military secrets will be taken out...

Then why do you have doubts?

I smiled. I could not speak out to share the strange but fair and just feelings within me. Perhaps one of those men across the border also had genuine doubts and rightful feelings like mine.

This nation called India is the home for many languages and religions, and is divided into many states. But any Indian has the fundamental right to move anywhere, to any corner of this country. Though the states are formed on linguistic basis, an Indian has full freedom to cross the border between two states.

Where the world is concerned, India is one of the many countries in the world. All these countries are contained in the spherical planet called the